Put old wives’ tales to the test in the garden
Have you ever heard that you should cover beans with horsehair
when you plant them, so that mice won’t nibble the seeds? Or that
you shouldn’t plant the same kind of herb two years in a row? There
are just a few old wives’ tales about how to tend your garden.
Put old wives’ tales to the test in the garden
Have you ever heard that you should cover beans with horsehair when you plant them, so that mice won’t nibble the seeds? Or that you shouldn’t plant the same kind of herb two years in a row? There are just a few old wives’ tales about how to tend your garden.
You know what old wives’ tales are, and it’s not just old wives that tell them. It’s a big collective jumble of sayings, advice, and odd stuff that have been passed down from generation to generation. I always think of them as things your mother used to tell you to get you to do what she wanted you to do — like eating bread crusts (they’ll make your hair curly!) and wearing your jacket in winter (you’ll catch a cold if you get chilled!).
I ran across a delightful little book the other day at the San Benito County Library book sale that looked at a variety of old wives’ tales in the garden. “Old Wives’ Lore for Gardeners,” by English sisters Maureen and Bridget Boland, who examine a variety of tales – everything from putting fat drippings on their rose roots as fertilizer to hanging mothballs on their peach trees to keep away pests.
Granted, I don’t think they were terribly scientific about their studies, and they took a lot of their information on faith from elderly neighbors. Still, it’s a fun read, and there are germs of truth in much of what they say.
Now that spring is coming – finally – and I’m thinking about gardening again, I’m wondering if I can put any of their advice to good use.
The Bolands go into great detail about companion planting, which is one old wives’ tale that really does seem to work. Companion planting involves planting certain types of vegetables together to enhance each other’s growth, or in some cases, putting in herbs or flowers with the veggies.
The Bolands are quite fond of marigolds and go on at length about their time in France, where marigolds are frequently used as a border around cottage gardens.
Apparently the pungent fragrance of the flowers keeps away bugs that would like to eat the vegetables, and their roots excrete a substance that kills nematodes in the soil.
Some other beneficial combinations are tomatoes near cabbages and broccoli near cucumbers to keep insect pests away; you can also plant tansy or dill in the garden to attract good insects like ladybugs, which prey on aphids.
Nasturtiums, dwarf zinnias and sweet alyssum also have their advocates as attractants of beneficial bugs.
And then there’s the idea of strange soil amendments; the Bolands swear that fat drippings made their roses grow lush and beautiful, and that beer improved their hollyhocks; however, I couldn’t find anyone else out there who would back up their claims.
There’s the old adage that you should only plant seeds when the moon is waxing – that is, getting larger and closer to being full – as opposed to waning, when it’s gradually appearing smaller in the sky. Supposedly, more seeds will sprout when the moon is in the waxing phase.
Some organic gardening Web sites swear by planting this way, saying that the greater gravitational pull of the moon does help seeds burst their coats more readily, and better germination is the result. However, other professionals don’t give credence to it.
There is also advice to plant root crops during the waning phase of the moon. And still others say the waning time is best for harvesting.
A slightly different take on this is the belief that aboveground plants should always be planted in the morning, and underground plants put in during the afternoon.
Or you could go with the ancient pagan method of planting – in the nude. If you want to give that a go, just make sure the neighbors can’t see you.
